But now Dane wondered: was it a coincidence that the Bearpaw Ridge Fire Department had been called away on a false alarm at the same time that a fire broke out at Annabeth's bakery?
Not just her bakery. Her home. Where he had left her sleeping…and vulnerable.
Dane glanced over at Evan, who looked as tense as Dane felt, and pushed the engine to its limits.
Chapter 17 – Exposed
When they arrived, roaring up Main Street with the siren on and lights flashing, Dane saw with horror that Cinnamon + Sugar was engulfed in flames.
A group of off-duty firefighters had assembled, and someone had connected a hose to the nearest hydrant. They were fighting to contain the raging fire inside the bakery on the ground floor.
"Annabeth's trapped up there," shouted Avery Brooks, pointing at an open loft window, confirming what Dispatch had already told them on the drive into town.
Thick smoke was pouring out of the open window, and Dane prayed that they weren't too late.
"We went around back to try and get her, but the staircase was already burning," Avery continued. "We saw her at the window earlier, and then the fire downstairs rolled over and blew out the bakery's windows."
The next few minutes were a blur as Dane and Evan raised the engine's ladder to reach the open window twenty feet above.
Dane scrambled up the ladder in his bulky turnout gear, mask, SCBA tank, and helmet, his bear rising inside him at the danger to their mate.
Let her be all right, he prayed as he climbed rapidly, the weight of his gear nothing to his shifter strength.
Evan was right behind him.
"Annabeth!" Dane called as he climbed through the loft's window. He peered through the thick smoke for any sign of his mate.
He found her sprawled on the floor between her bed and the window, overcome by smoke. But alive, thank God.
Dane scooped her up in his arms just as Evan reached the window.
Dane pointed at the pile of albums and the laptop sitting amidst the rumpled bedclothes, and Evan nodded.
Afterwards, Dane didn't remember carrying Annabeth out of the loft and down the ladder, but then he was on the sidewalk, and Mark was there with his medic kit.
With an effort of will, Dane stepped back and let his brother examine Annabeth. Mark was a trained EMT and probably a lot calmer than Dane right now.
"I think she'll be all right," Mark said as he fitted an oxygen mask over Annabeth's face.
Dane saw her eyelids flutter and hoped to God that his brother was right. She was alive, and right now, that was all that mattered.
He pulled down his mask and turned to survey the scene, ready to join the firefighting efforts and save what was left of Annabeth's bakery and the apartment.
Then the breeze shifted, and Dane caught a whiff of a familiar scent mingled with the stink of smoke and chemicals. That asshole Roger!
He tracked the scent to the crowd of onlookers standing behind a hastily erected tape barrier at the end of the block.
Dane's gaze met Roger's, and he saw the other man's eyes widen in guilty terror.
Roger turned and ran.
And Dane knew then, without a doubt, that the fire that had almost killed Annabeth had been no accident.
Dane's bear, enraged beyond all measure, broke free. It was all Dane could do to strip out of his bulky—and expensive—turn-out gear before the shift overwhelmed him.
When he rose in bear-shape a few moments later, he tore away the shredded remnants of his pants and T-shirt with a few irritated swipes of his paw.
Then he galloped in pursuit of his prey.
"You go, Dane!" someone shouted as the crowd of onlookers scattered to make way for him.
Even with his head start, Roger didn't stand a chance against a full-grown grizzly. In his bear shape, Dane could easily run 35 miles per hour, and he could keep up that pace for a long time.
The breeze brought Dane the scent of his prey, expensive cologne overlaid with the stink of gasoline and the rich perfume of terror. He stretched into an all-out run.
Away from the scene of the fire, the streets of Bearpaw Ridge were dark and deserted at this time of night.
Three blocks later, he caught up with Roger as the man was trying to climb into his BMW.
Dane roared in triumph at cornering his prey.
One furious swing of his paw ripped the car's door off its hinges and sent it skidding down the street with a spray of gravel.
Roger shrieked and hit the car's Start button.
The BMW's engine sprang to life with a throaty growl an instant before Dane hooked Roger's shirt with his curving claws and pulled the screaming man out of his car.
Roger landed on his back in the street. Sobbing with terror, he curled up into a fetal position, covering his head with hands. Lights began to come on in the homes all up and the street, and out of the corner of his eye, Dane saw curtains moving as residents peeked out.
But Bearpaw Ridge was a town populated by shifters, most of whom had no desire to come between an angry bear and its prey.
The sharp smell of human urine rose suddenly, and Dane huffed with ursine satisfaction at his prey's quivering terror.
He remembered what Annabeth had told him about her ex—the constant belittling, the emotional abuse, and those fucking lists.
And the taint of smoke clinging to Roger's clothing reminded Dane of the terror he had felt when he had seen the ground floor of the bakery building engulfed in flames.
Roger Pemberton didn't deserve to live. No, he was going to die very painfully for what he'd done to Annabeth.
Then flashing blue lights caught Dane's attention.
He swung his head around to see the sheriff's car pull up and park behind the BMW.
He gave a deep warning growl as Bill Jacobsen climbed out of his vehicle.
"Shoot it!" screamed Roger, uncurling suddenly from his fetal position. "For God's sake, shoot it! Shoot the bear! What are you waiting for? It's gonna eat me!"
With Dane momentarily distracted by the sheriff's arrival, Roger tried to scramble away.
Almost casually, Dane reached out a huge forepaw and pinned him in place. You're not getting away that easily, you asshole.
"Now, Dane, you caught him, fair and square," the sheriff said in soothing tone.
The bear rumbled agreement. Mine!
A wolf shifter himself, Bill had been serving Bearpaw Ridge for twenty years, and he was well-versed in handling shifters in their human or animal forms.
His hands spread out before him, Bill approached Dane with slow, cautious steps.
"But I can't let you kill him," he told Dane. "No matter how badly he deserves it."
Dane snarled. He wanted to kill Roger, wanted to see the asshole's blood soaking into the gravel of the street.
"If you kill him, I'll have to arrest you. And then you won't be able to look after Annabeth while she's in the hospital," Bill continued, his tone still calm. "So why don't you let me have this guy? I'll arrest him for suspected arson—"
"Why the fuck are you talking to a bear?" Roger screamed. "Just fucking shoot it before it eats me!"
"You stink of gasoline, and we have witnesses who saw you hanging around the bakery just before the fire started," Bill told him. "And when I search your car in a minute, I'm betting I'm going to find all kinds of interesting things to support my theory."
Roger squirmed frantically, trying to wriggle out from under the giant paw holding him captive.
Dane applied a bit of pressure to stop him and felt Roger's ribcage flex beneath his paw. He was tempted to squash Annabeth's ex like a bug.
"Ahhhh! Save me, please! You gotta save me!" Under the weight of Dane's paw, Roger's voice was just a whisper now.
"Dane," Bill said sternly. "Annabeth needs you. Let me take care of this guy, and you go to her."
Annabeth. Dane swayed, torn between his primal desire to rip Roger Pemberton into quivering chunks of bloody meat for what he'd done to Annabe
th and his need to be at his injured mate's side.
"Dane? What do you mean, ‘Dane?’" Roger demanded as Dane reluctantly released him.
Roger scrambled to his feet and staggered over to the sheriff.
"Shoot it! Shoot it now! Please!" he begged in a panicky tone. "It's a bear!"
Dane shifted smoothly back to human and saw Roger gape at him.
"I don't see a bear," he said to Bill. "Do you?"
Bill shook his head. "Just a big naked guy."
"What? What the fuck is going on here? How did you do that?" Roger's voice was shrill with panic.
As Roger continued to gape at Dane, obviously unable to believe what he'd just seen, Bill took the opportunity to cuff Roger's hands behind his back and read him his rights.
Once Roger had been shoved into the back seat of the sheriff's car, Bill popped the trunk and pulled out a pair of sweats.
"Now, put some clothes on before we head back into town," he said, tossing the sweats over to Dane. "Or I'll have to arrest you for public indecency."
Chapter 18 – Burned
"This is going to sound really weird, but I thought I saw you turn into a bear last night," Annabeth said hoarsely when Dane showed up in her hospital room just as dawn was breaking.
She had spent the remaining hours of the night at Steele Memorial in Salmon, being treated for smoke inhalation. Her throat felt like it had been sandpapered, her chest hurt, her eyes were red and sore, and her mouth tasted foul.
And she felt very lucky that it hadn't been worse.
But whatever chemicals she'd been exposed to inside the burning had given her a doozy of a hallucination.
Instead of laughing, as she had expected, Dane looked stricken…and guilty.
He was still clad in the ill-fitting sweats he had been wearing when he returned to the bakery just as the other firefighters were putting out the last flames.
His face was covered with dark stubble, his hair was rumpled and sticking up at odd angles, and he looked exhausted. And sexy as hell.
"Uh, about that," he began. "I've been meaning to talk to you about some of the, uh, unique aspects of living in Bearpaw Ridge."
"What?" she asked, feeling confused.
Dane sighed. "It—well, it wasn't a hallucination. I—my entire family—we're bear shifters. I was trying to the find the right time to tell you."
"Bear shifters," she repeated, and a few of the odd things she'd noticed over the past few weeks fell into place. "Wait—that was your big secret? That's why you've got super-strength?"
He nodded, looking at the floor.
She blinked. Either she'd gone completely nuts, or the world had just turned upside down.
Bear shifters. Dane can turn into a bear.
It was unbelievable, but it made sense, too, in a weird way.
Something else occurred to her. "And Kayla? Is she a bear shifter, too? I caught her lifting my Hobart, and it weighs a lot more than she does!"
Dane nodded. "I’m sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I wanted to, but I just couldn't…"
His voice trailed off, and his face turned red. He wouldn't meet her eyes, just kept his gaze fixed firmly on the polished linoleum of the floor.
"But we're supposed to be getting married! Is that the kind of secret you'd keep from your wife?" Annabeth asked.
She didn't really feel angry at him…just really, really tired.
After everything that had happened yesterday and last night, after everything she had just lost, she didn't have the energy for anger. She was completely drained.
Her laptop, photo albums, and manila folder, still reeking of smoke, were stacked on the visitor's chair next to her bed. She still didn't know how much had been destroyed in the fire, but even if nothing else was left, Evan and Dane had managed to save the most important things.
"I'm sorry," Dane repeated. "It was wrong of me. I was just…scared."
Annabeth stared at him. Dane—big, strong Dane, who ran into burning buildings and could apparently turn himself into an eight-foot tall grizzly bear—had been scared?
"You're not from Bearpaw Ridge," he continued in an apologetic tone. "I was afraid you'd leave me if you found out that I wasn't entirely human."
"I may freak out about it later," she warned him. "Right now, I just feel numb. I'm exhausted, and I don't even know if I still have bed to sleep in…or a bakery."
"Let me take you home to the ranch," Dane said, meeting her gaze at last. His eyes were filled with deep compassion, and she knew then that the news wasn't good.
"You can stay at my place as long as you need to. Take a shower, get some sleep, eat something, then I'll drive you into town and we can look at your bakery and your apartment." He paused. "I'm so glad you're safe. When I realized that you were trapped in your loft…" He swallowed hard. "I love you, Annabeth. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."
"I love you, too." Bear shifter or not, that much was true.
She began to cough from all of the talking and reached for the glass of water by her bedside. As Dane watched her with a concerned expression, she sipped at it, trying to soothe her sore throat.
When she could speak again, she asked, "What happened?"
"There's going to be an arson investigation, but from what we can tell, Roger soaked the bakery and the stairs leading up to your apartment with gasoline before setting the place on fire. And he made sure that the on-call firefighters would be out of town, rushing to the scene of an imaginary car accident he called in before he began torching your place." Dane paused, his face and voice hard. "Bill Jacobsen arrested Roger last night as he was attempting to flee town. He's behind bars, facing charges of arson and attempted murder, among other things."
"Okay, good," Annabeth said. She was so tired that the room was beginning to revolve around her in slow circles. "I'll come home with you. But first…can I have a hug? I really need one right now."
Dane's arms, strong, comforting, and familiar, were around her before she finished speaking.
"It's going to be okay, Annabeth. No matter what happens, as long as we're together, it's going to be okay."
No, I don't think it's going to be okay, Annabeth thought later that afternoon as she stood on the sidewalk and gazed in shock at the gutted ruin of her bakery.
All the expensive plate glass windows were shattered, the brick façade was stained black with soot, and everything inside was blackened and melted into twisted lumps.
Dane put his arm around her shoulders. "You had insurance, right?" he asked quietly.
She nodded. "Yes, but I don't think it's going to be enough to replace all my equipment, fittings, and furnishings. A commercial bakery oven alone costs as much as a new car!"
And it gets worse.
She hesitated before continuing, "And I may not get anything at all. I talked to Jennifer before we drove out here—" Jennifer Jacobsen, the sheriff's daughter, was Annabeth's insurance agent, "and she told me that the insurance company won't pay the claim until they've finished an investigation. She warned me that there might be some issues with proving I had nothing to do with the arson, because Roger and I knew each other, and he's still insisting that he's my fiancé."
Dane growled and gave her a comforting squeeze.
"It'll be okay," he said, repeating what had become a mantra over the past few hours. "We'll find a way to make it okay."
Annabeth shook her head, unable to summon even the faintest spark of optimism. She still felt exhausted, even after a long nap, a shower, breakfast, and several cups of a soothing mint herb tea generously laced with honey.
Dane looked up at her loft. "I don't think it's going to take too much work to renovate your apartment. The fire never got up that far—except for your stairs, I'm betting it's mostly smoke and water damage."
Annabeth shuddered. Roger had targeted those stairs, intending to trap her inside the loft.
Even if she could afford to make the apartment livable a
gain, she didn't ever want to spend another night there.
"Oh honey," Maggie said, later that afternoon, when Annabeth called her to tell her what had happened. "I’m so sorry, and I'm so glad you're okay! That's the most important thing, right?" She sighed into the phone. "I always knew that Roger was bad news. Thank God you weren't badly hurt or killed! I hope he rots in prison. And you're going to rebuild, right? Start over?"
"I want to," Annabeth said, fighting down the feeling of sick despair that had been growing since Dane had driven her into town and she'd seen the damage. "But I really can't do anything until I get the insurance payment. And even then…"
"And how's Dane treating you?" Maggie demanded. "Is he being supportive? If not, I'll head over and kick his ass!"
Annabeth laughed despite her black mood. "He's been great. In fact, I'm staying at his place for now." She looked around at the comfortable Edwardian interior of Dane's house, which was located about half a mile from the ranch's main house. "It's really nice. And he saved my life last night."
"Good!" Maggie said. "It's about time you found a man who appreciates you properly!"
"About that," Annabeth said, hesitantly. "You grew up in Bearpaw Springs, right?"
"Yep, hometown girl all the way," Maggie agreed. "Why? What's up?"
Okay, now's the part where I get to sound completely nuts.
Annabeth took a deep breath. "I saw Dane turn into a bear last night. He told me that most of the people who live around here can turn into animals. Am—am I crazy, Maggie?"
Maggie was silent for an uncomfortably long time.
"Hell of a way to find out," she said finally. "And you're not crazy, Annabeth. Or not crazier than anyone else living in that town." She laughed. "I'm a jaguar shifter myself. I love living in San Francisco, but it's hard sometimes, having to hide what I am all the time."
"You're a shapeshifter too?" In all the years they had known each other, Annabeth had never noticed anything odd about Maggie.
"And I'm still deep in the closet, honey, so don't you tell anyone in the City!" Maggie said, making Annabeth laugh again.
That set off another coughing fit and the need for more water.
Heat: A Werebear + BBW Paranormal Romance (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters Book 1) Page 14
